Short and Simple

Peace

Written in 2016

Written in 2016

The city never sleeps at night. In fact, the roar of the engines is the loudest at two a.m. You can hear the constant annoying honks of the cars long after the sun sets as the lights illuminate the way. But I hate it. I hate how after a long exhausting day, when my head hits my pillow, I can't go to sleep. I can't take a break from my twisted reality. I can't have peace.

               But it's not just the noise that keeps me up at night. Endless strings of thoughts accompany my exhaustion and occupy whatever ounce of relief I have left.

               My mind is like a balloon. I'm inflated because of constant overthinking. Not air. There's just no space for it. Currently, it's waiting for that right moment to pop. Ironically, that moment is never right. One small hitch, as thin as a needle, that's enough to send out the years of holding on, my resolution to be patient, flying everywhere like confetti. But why does it even get to that point in the first place?

               Exams get lined up so heavily that we're practically taking five Chemistry tests in one day. Though I am a new student, completely helpless, everyone still expects me to perform like the top grader who has been studying Physics for the past three years. As if that's not enough, my mother on the other side of the world yells at me for not putting in my full effort. Then she complains about how negative I am.

               One time, I went to sleep at three in the morning, exhausted from the day's events and that night's studying. I was just about ready to pass out, only to wake up to high pitch arguing and slippers clacking around my bed just three and a half hours later. Though there's plenty of space around the furniture, my cousins still find the need to jump over me to get from one side of the room to the other, irritating me even further. I ask their insensitive beings to stop and the oldest of the four questions my rights.

               What if one day, the cars stopped honking? What if I only had to compete with myself and my mom stopped screaming through a satellite connection, extracting the flaws and shortcomings in every great achievement? What if I could wake up to birds chirping instead of tears and tantrums? Would the world still be round?

               It's too much, I think to myself, more than I can handle. I yell at my cousins every time they step out of the imaginary line I have drawn for them. When my mother calls me, I don't receive it; I simply ignore it. I'm not strong enough so I lock myself in the storage room, where no one can touch me, no one can bother me. Stay out of sight, stay invisible. Now I have peace. My own little world, where there are no wars, where there are no worries, where everyone lives happily.

               I rarely see the daylight radiating off other humans' faces, but when I do, it's only to grab a meal to eat in my new hideout. My hideout is so perfect. No cars honking while I try to sleep. No one screaming while I try to study. And no critics calling from miles away while I try to indulge in peace.

               Days go by and it's been two weeks since I shut myself in a room. Two weeks since I have isolated myself from my relatives. Two weeks since I have detached myself from this world. I keep telling myself I'm happy with it, but a tiny voice inside my head tells me that's a lie. Deep down, the silence gnaws the inside of me until I'm sore. It's louder than those damn smog releasing machines. It's louder than the cacophonies and crying. It's louder than my own thoughts. When I show my face to the outside, they all look at me as if I'm an alien, with a green head the size of a rugby ball and eyes the size of tennis balls. No one ever asks how I am doing or if I need anything while I'm in my mancave. My own mother has stopped calling me.

               Why did I do this?

               Why did I break a part of their world and make it my own? Because all I wanted was peace. Because I was selfish and wanted a reality where I was happy.

               Did I get that? No.

               Because I sacrificed my true happiness for a happiness that does not exist, cannot exist without harmony. And harmony leads to peace.

               I call my mom after a long time. She breaks down on the phone and immediately I picture her in front of me, a forty year old acting like a four year old. I have to admit, I missed her voice, even if I heard it while she was nagging at me. I walk out to the kitchen and sit down, lost in my own thoughts, about to reflect on my two weeks in solitude.

               Just within half an hour, my aunt and uncle have fixed dinner and without any questions, pull out a chair for me. I get to enjoy my first family dinner in a long time with people I can call family. There's a saying that a lone stick is easy to break, but a bundle is far from "easy" and I was ready to give all that away, a chance to make myself unbreakable in this wicked and corrupt society, for what? Peace? That five lettered word? Peace is not a gift. It does not fall from the sky. No one can achieve peace without putting something on the table, without risking something. Peace, no matter how hard someone tries, is not a one sided thing. Establishing harmony is a team hustle. It's the kind of struggle that tires everyone but also rewards everyone. And here I am, thinking that I could create peace for my own benefit, by taking myself out of the equation and not harm something.

               Peace is compromise. Compromise means to reach a mutual agreement, sometimes by letting go of your ego for someone else's sake. If red and blue held on to their colour when being swirled around by a paintbrush, purple, a beautiful colour, would not be used to paint flowers. Only by making space for each other can peace be accomplished. Peace is unity, unity of faiths, colours, races and more. There is no room for pride or prejudice, though that is a really interesting book. One world cannot spin one way while the others are all spinning the other way. While standing out is important, being an individual should not get in the way of a team effort. One foot simply cannot walk without the other.

               With that being said, it is never too late to join hands and explore the realms of peace together.